


been wondering if your heart's still open and if so i wanna know what time it shuts

by makemelovely



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Clary Fray, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, Grief/Mourning, Implied Sexual Content, Making Out, Past Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Self-Discovery, their ship name is mary i don't make the rules, vampire!clary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-24 21:03:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14363628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makemelovely/pseuds/makemelovely
Summary: Magnus Bane never imagined that the only one left by his side was Clary Fray. His little biscuit an immortal.//or the one where clary dies and wakes up in a grave. time marches on.





	been wondering if your heart's still open and if so i wanna know what time it shuts

**Author's Note:**

> title from do I wanna know by arctic monkeys

Magnus Bane never imagined that the only one left by his side was Clary Fray. His little biscuit an immortal. Funny, he never imagined he’d settle down with her either. Fate a funny one. Or maybe fate is just a cruel bitch. He can’t be bothered to remember a saying from hundreds of years ago.

 

* * *

 

 

It starts like this: Clary finds a rogue vampire, and he tears her throat out. She manages a bite to his thumb, hard enough to draw blood. It hits her tongue, and then she’s bleeding out. She’s dying, and then she’s dead.

 

It starts like this: Simon has two choices. He can let Clary stay dead, skin cold as ice and pale as snow. Or he can grab a shovel and cover her body in grave dirt, and wait with blood as she crawls from the earth and is reborn a monster. Simon has two choices, and they all lead to a dead Clary. One will just crave blood.

 

Simon grabs a shovel.

 

* * *

 

 

Clary stares at her hands blankly. She hasn’t moved in hours, and she’s dressed all in black as if she’s mourning. Perhaps she is. Luke looks at her like she’s a ghost, and Clary understands what she couldn’t all those years ago. How angry Simon is that he woke up a monster. How she took his choice away and how angry it makes her. She dresses all in black to mourn the girl who could once go out in the daylight.

 

(She still can. The first drops of blood that would only fuel her hunger were Jace’s. Now she’s an angel with a devils tail.)

 

She stares for hours at her pale hands, and she wants to break them. Magnus sits beside her reading a book. The Great Gatsby, maybe. Magnus sits beside her silently, waiting for the moment that her hands will waver.

 

“It’s okay to be angry.” He says eventually, turning the page.

 

Clary turns to him in surprise, hands falling neatly into her lap. “Is it?” She asks faintly, unblinking.

 

The corner of Magnus’s lips turn up, and he closes his book. He stands up, glittery fabric swishing. He holds his hand out, grinning as she looks up at him. She looks small, and he hates the droop in the corner of her lips. “Would you accompany me to the Starbucks down the road? I’m in dire need of a caramel frappuccino.” He says it in a posh voice with a posh accent, and his eyes light up triumphantly once her cold hand touches his. She smiles, and Magnus revels in it. “I’ll buy you the biggest size they have, biscuit, is that all right?” Clary nods, and they walk arm in arm to the Starbucks down the street.

 

Clary learns to smile because her heart may not be beating and she may crave blood but-

 

It takes Clary a very long time to find a but to her reasons, but she smiles anyways.

 

* * *

 

 

Jace dies first. Young, reckless, and golden till the very end. Then it’s Izzy, her back broken and spine shattered while blood trickles from the corner of her mouth. A pause, an intermission if you will. And then it’s Act II and Simon is the third to die. A stake shoved through his heart, and Clary would laugh if it didn’t hurt. She cries for days, and this time there’s no coffee to make her feel better. Magnus is with Alec, providing what little comfort he can during this horrible time.

 

And then worst of all it’s Alec. Clary still doesn’t know how, and she never wants to know. She holds Magnus’s hand at the funeral, and ignores the stares from the other attendees.

 

Magnus breathes against her neck at night, his tears flowing steadily down his cheeks and onto the cozy material covering her shoulder blades. Clary grieves with him for at least twenty years, and they learn how to live again.

 

* * *

 

 

Clary goes to med school in one lifetime. Becomes a successful doctor, and gets married to a man with green eyes and red hair. He’s not a Simon or a Jace or any other boy she loved with her entire being. In that particular lifetime, Magnus becomes a fashion designer for Downworlders. It’s a business that he keeps in all of his lifetimes. Makes it easier to breathe, maybe.

 

Clary discovers that girls are pretty, and she likes them. “I think I’m bisexual.” She confides to Magnus one Tuesday evening while rain pelts down outside.

 

Magnus’s grin takes over his whole face. “Marvelous. Self-discovery is really quite wonderful.” He tells her, fingers gently tracing a cut in the shape of a crescent moon on her arm. It’s in the process of healing, red but a faint red as it’s halfway healed. It’ll close in an hour, maybe.

 

Clary nods, and presses closer to Magnus. He swallows, her nose bumping against his pulse point. She kisses him then. On a rainy Tuesday evening is when Clarissa Morgenstern kisses Magnus Bane. Her lips are chapped, and the hands pressed against his shoulders are cold.

 

Clary Fray kisses Mags, her best and perhaps only friend. She kisses him, and he kisses her back. Clary’s kiss was gentle, chaste even. Magnus’s kiss was fire burning bright. It was a dull roar, and he pushed closer to her. Everywhere his warm hands touched her cold body made a fire spread, dancing across her skin with a laugh. Clary gasped as her back hit the wall, shuddering against his solid body when he caught her lower lip between his teeth.

 

It was frantic, and passionate, and it felt like being reborn. Fuck crawling out of her grave, dirt smothering her and digging itself beneath her fingernails. All she needed to do was kiss Magnus Bane.

 

Magnus pulled away, breathless and hard against her hip. She stared up at him, something burning deep in her green eyes. Her pale skin should have been flushed. Her hair was hanging around her face, limp and wild. Her hands had ended up at his hips, digging her fingers into his flesh.

 

“I have a date to get to.” Clary says suddenly, voice low and thick with something he really doesn't want to think about.

 

“Right.” Magnus steps away, holding back the smirk when she steps with him. She’s can't let him go, and Magnus hates the part of him that wants to pull her closer. “Sorry for keeping you.” Clary’s throat bobs, and Magnus ducks down before he can think of the consequences. He presses his lips there, holding his breath for a moment before pulling away.

 

Clary nods, and walks out the door, humming quietly. Magnus watches her go, fingers tracing the marriage rune onto his wrist. He thinks of Alec, and how goddamn good he looked in a suit. Thinks of his blue eyes, strong as steel but also soft as butter. Mostly he thinks about what Alec would say if he were here. Probably  _ Fray how the hell did you get in here  _ and  _ get the fuck out _ . Magnus makes himself tea and thinks a lot about Alec.

 

* * *

 

 

“Her name is Elena.” Clary tells him one morning over tea, tarot cards spread around them. Magnus is doing a reading for her. “She’s nice, and pretty, but.” Clary shrugs, red hair shifting along her shoulder blades. 

 

“But you don’t see a future with her.” Magnus finishes for her, glancing over and placing a warm hand over hers.

 

Clary shrugs, watching as Magnus flips a card over, sparkly blue nail polish glinting in the light. “Not really. It’s not that big of a deal though. Hell, I’ll never have an everlasting relationship because when I promise a forever I mean it. I can make it happen.” Clary’s in sweatpants, a green tank top, and a black sweater tugged tightly around her arms. It’s not the most significant moment in Clary's life, nor is it the most mundane. Magnus watches her, and thinks she looks beautiful. “Perks of being an immortal, I guess.” Clary glances up, eyes wet. Her voice is weak, and self deprecating.

 

“Oh, biscuit.” Magnus utters, sympathy glowing in his eyes.

 

Clary rolls her eyes, voice tight with annoyance. “Don't feel bad for me.” She snaps, and he flips the last card over. “I’m gonna take a shower.” Clary grumbles, padding over to the stairs.

 

“Mind if I join you?” He quips, smiling at her slyly.

 

Clary's eyes flashed with something wild in them, and her grin looked a tad feral. “I’d love it if you joined me, Magnus.” Her eyes say  _ I dare you. I dare you to back out and leave me wanting. I fucking dare you. _

 

Magnus follows her, watching her with careful eyes as they stripped off all their clothes and climbed into the shower together. Clary shrieked as cold water splashed against her back. Magnus watched her, taking in every inch of skin as she did the same. Her skin was pale and freckled everywhere, and Magnus kisses her.

 

* * *

 

 

Clary leans over his shoulder, giggling against his neck. “Holy shit I love Davie Plaza. He’s fucking hilarious!” In this lifetime, Clary wears black tank tops and loads of eyeliner along with the magic tattoo sleeves that Magnus conjured for her. She leaves her red hair down, and drinks beer at the bar down the street on Friday evenings.

 

Magnus hums in agreement, idly wondering if the Latino man was as cute as he seemed. Magnus glanced over, smiling at Clary. She looked adorable in her tattoos. A girl scout trying to join a gang, really.

 

Clary kisses him quickly, and hides her smile in a mug of coffee. Magnus switches the television off, and swats Clary playfully on the thigh. “Help me make peanut butter cookies?” He pleaded, and Clary nodded. He dragged her to the kitchen, the sound of her laughter following behind him.

 

(Later they’ll make out on the counter top and then eat cookies while watching shitty reality tv and life will be okay again.)

 


End file.
